


For Which This Valley Was Named

by InsertACatchyPennameHere



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Based on Requests, Dialogue Heavy, Domestic Fluff, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Head Chapter Warnings, Head any trigger warnings, Heavier Content Will Be Warned in Notes, Heavy Angst, Hospitalization and Medical Stuff in Chapter Five, Hurt/Comfort, LGBTQ Themes, Multi, Or Send Requests to the Linked Tumblr, Request based, Some verbal abuse in Chapter Three, Stay Safe Beautiful Readers, Tags to be added, This is a melting pot, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, comment your requests
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:40:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25753732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsertACatchyPennameHere/pseuds/InsertACatchyPennameHere
Summary: The possibilities of all that may occur within Stardew Valley are endless as well as the relationships and scenarios that can be created. This is a request-based work that will be built off of both the requests/ideas I am given by my beautiful readers as well as the one-shots (and potentially two-shots and short arcs) that I personally come up with. Any content warnings will be within the Notes/the beginning of any chapters that may have them, and I look forward to seeing what will be created here with you all.
Relationships: Abigail/Haley (Stardew Valley), Abigail/Maru (Stardew Valley), Abigail/Player (Stardew Valley), Abigail/Sam/Sebastian (Stardew Valley), Alex/Haley (Stardew Valley), Alex/Maru (Stardew Valley), Alex/Player (Stardew Valley), Alex/Sebastian (Stardew Valley), Elliott/Leah (Stardew Valley), Elliott/Leah/Female Player (Stardew Valley), Elliott/Penny (Stardew Valley), Elliott/Player (Stardew Valley), Elliott/Shane (Stardew Valley), Emily/Leah (Stardew Valley), Emily/Player (Stardew Valley), Emily/Sandy (Stardew Valley), Emily/Sebastian (Stardew Valley), Emily/Shane (Stardew Valley), Haley/Female Player (Stardew Valley), Haley/Leah (Stardew Valley), Haley/Penny (Stardew Valley), Haley/Sebastian (Stardew Valley), Harvey/Player (Stardew Valley), Harvey/Shane (Stardew Valley), Leah/Penny (Stardew Valley), Maru/Penny (Stardew Valley), Maru/Player (Stardew Valley), Penny/Female Player (Stardew Valley), Penny/Sebastian (Stardew Valley), Sam/Haley (Stardew Valley), Sam/Player (Stardew Valley), Sam/Sebastian (Stardew Valley), Sebastian/Player (Stardew Valley)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 26





	1. The Night Before

**Author's Note:**

> I began writing this chapter on 5/23 of this year and finished it on 5/29. I promised myself that I would not post it until I concluded my Hamilton role-reversal AU, 'A Mind at Work', but I have been mentally burnt out on how to properly end a story that I have loved so dearly without rushing it. I am also not in the headspace to write within my Mulan AU nor my Fairytale-Retelling/Fantasy AU, in addition to my general love and dedication being to this fandom. Rest assured that all projects that go up on this account shall not be abandoned- even those that have not been updated in years- but I have a service to myself to be able to enjoy what I am writing as well as a dedication to make sure what I share with you all is high-quality and done so with love. 
> 
> All of that being said, I have been immensely excited to begin this story collection and to open up requests, so please, enjoy! ♥

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the evening before their lives change forever, even though it is certain to be for the better, Penny cannot help but grapple with some of her most intimate insecurities. It is an excellent reality, then, that her wife is always there to reassure her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Self-hatred and bordering having panic-attack in the first half of this chapter!

From being forced to be the head of the household since she was first able to pick up bottles and clean away messes, Penny knew that having a perfectly in-tact home was an idealistic pipe dream, but she simply could not stop herself from trying to achieve it.

It was particularly important to her that she succeed in her attempts now more than ever, so she busied herself with scrubbing, dusting, vacuuming, mopping, and otherwise laboring at the once extremely homey cabin that previously housed her wife’s beloved grandparents. Even after living here for nearly two years- and despite what an overall joyous two years it had been- she still could not seem to shake the thoughts that insisted she would never be able to fill this place with the amount of love that her partner had come to associate it with so many years before. Certainly, she herself had not been raised in the most tender, nurturing environment, but the idea that she could fall short in any area in consideration to her wife nearly always sent her teetering on the edge of severe panic attacks or crippling despair. Whether it be cleaning, shopping, assisting where she was able to on the farm, or cooking, it all simply had to be the best for her own knight-in-shining-armor. Nothing less would do, and now that they were about to be first-time parents…

“Honey, I’m home!” Came the voice of her most treasured spouse, her voice not quite bouncing off the insulated, sturdy walls like it always did in her former trailer. “Where is my beautiful lady?”

“Up here, dear!” Penny called in return as she delicately adjusted a picture frame on the wall from where it had tilted yet again.

Clary came up two steps at a time despite her assumed exhaustion from the day’s work and embraced her swiftly, even lifting her up into her arms and spinning her around with a flourish as they both laughed. When they stopped spinning, Penny wasted no time kissing her wife despite her off-kilter coordination, their foreheads pressed affectionately to each other’s as they simply drank in each other’s presence. It was no secret that they were both far from perfect, and yet in each other’s arms, there was an unspoken tenderness that it was all forgiven long before anything even happened. Penny could never understand quite why, or how, but her imperfections were always just as readily pardoned and taken in stride as she willingly did the same for Clary. It hardly seemed possible, and yet somehow it was real, and the dream never seemed to end no matter how her mind insisted one day that it might.

“Just one more night and we will have our daughter,” Clary murmured affectionately, her words breathy as they brushed her lips. “ _Our_ daughter, my sweet. Can you even wrap your mind around it?”

“Hardly,” Penny admitted, something anxious that her partner would be put-off by her seeming hesitance toward the prospect of parenthood, but she was swiftly relieved to find Clary nodding in agreement and letting out a long sigh.

“I know that she is going to be perfect and that we’re going to love her fiercely- Hell, we already do- but I can’t help but be nervous,” her wife admitted without the same hesitance that Penny felt about divulging her own anxieties. “I mean, I know _you’re_ going to be a fantastic mother, but I’m not so sure about myself. I don’t have the same expertise and experience with kids, y’know?”

“Oh, honey, I would hardly call it expertise!” Penny exclaimed with a small bout of uneasy laughter. “And even so, Vincent and Jas are children, not babies. You and I will both be new at this.”

“My sweet melon, you are the most maternal and loving person in this town!” Clary declared with sudden vigor, twirling her around to emphasis her point before capturing her in a brief but passioned kiss. “You will be a natural; I am completely certain of it! I’m just worried that I’ll have a really intense learning curve and not be able to bond with her properly with my work being so long half of the time.”

It hardly seemed possible that her wife of all people could be doubting herself to Penny. After all, it was her lady who had been her shining beacon of hope, the one who had come into this constantly predictable, rundown town and made it vibrant area it was now. Nearly single handedly, this farmer had changed simply everything about what it meant to be a resident of Pelican Town, and completely changed everything that she had once believed her life would ever amount to be. How could someone who did all of those remarkable things and continued to make massive differences to peoples’ lives ever doubt their ability to parent? It simply would not do!

“Listen to me,” Penny asserted while cupping her hands around her spouse’s face. “You are one of the greatest blessings of my and so many others’ lives. I would recite all of my massive, lifechanging changes you’ve made to Pelican Town and even Calico Desert, but that is a list that is hardly able to be finished! In addition to all of those lives you have greatly improved, you completely saved mine from the miserable path it was one. I…I was living a nightmare. I was never going to really be able to leave it behind if you had not come along and whisked me off my feet. You showed me that there really was more to life than an endless cycle of pain and despair, and that I am worth more than my mother’s mistakes. I honestly don’t know where in Yoba’s name I would be without you, and I can’t bear to imagine a life without you always by my side. When you have done all of that and more, it is hardly possible that you won’t be just as phenomenal as a mother! All of our children will adore you so much, just like their Mommy does.”

As she finished her speech, Penny became astutely aware of how silent Clary had grown. Her wife’s head was lowered, her hands only weakly resting on her hips now, so Penny wasted no time closing the little remaining space between them and pressing their foreheads together once more. What could she have possibly said incorrectly to upset her? She was only trying to help, and it seemed that she had clearly gone and made it worse instead. It was far too typical of her to attempt to make a positive change but fail miserably. She had with her mother, teaching both of the children with more success than failure, with trying IVF initially when she and Clary decided to start expanding their family…Why did she even try?

“That was the most kind, sincere, and incredible pep talk that anyone has ever cared enough to give me.” Her seemingly endless cycle of self-hatred was once again interrupted by her wife, who now cupped her hands around Penny’s and looked to her with a beautiful smile accented by tears of evident joy. “Thank you, my sweet love of my life. I desperately needed that.”

Penny was flabbergasted to say the least, so much so that she could seem to form words properly, so she simply gave a watery smile of her own and embraced her darling tightly. She was desperately trying to will away the remnants of her previously perceived harm that she had been responsible for causing, but the tears rebelled, rolling down her face until they were a steady stream that was now wetting her wife’s shirt. Unsurprisingly (and yet still very much to her horror), Clary took notice within the first minute of this and pulled away enough to cup her face and study her expression with her ever-intense gaze of concern.

“Penny, what’s wrong?” Clary asked softly as she began to thumb away the still steadily rolling tears. “What’s bothering you, my love? I’m sorry if you thought I was upset, I just didn’t want to have waterworks, but I failed at that anyway-”

A lump formed in Penny’s throat as she moved to tell her partner that what she assumed was correct and that was all that was troubling her. It was very evidently no secret that she had anxiety, anyway, and it was not completely untrue, but the concept of lying even a bit to her spouse made her stomach twist into unbearable, painful knots and filled her with a shame so intense that she could not help the blush igniting her cheeks. Clary herself had just been sharing her own insecurities with the prospect of parenthood, and now she had similar ones that seemed silly when she considered how she was already perceived as more than component. She supposed it did not matter how she felt, only how she gave off the allusion of complete control so nobody had to worry unnecessarily, and yet she had never been good at hiding things from her now spouse as she was with everyone else.

Clary tenderly brushed a stray strand of her hair away from her eyes, and it all came out before Penny had a chance to wrestle internally over it any longer.

“It’s just…My mother…w-wasn’t always an alcoholic. She…she started drinking after she had me.” To her own ears, Penny sounded weak, pathetic, as the tears flowed more rapidly down her cheeks, but she could not seem to bottle it up any longer. “S-she said my birth was a sh-shit show, and that none of the medication lasted long enough for her to heal up, so she started ‘self-nursing’...A-and then my father said he f-felt trapped, so he ran out, and I-I’m not trying to imply that y-you would ever do that, but she really…She really loved him, Clary, a-and she just…fell apart. She went on this…this _horrible_ downward spiral, and I remember that…I remember she said at least a couple of times she _wanted_ to q-quit, but she just couldn’t, and th-then she stopped caring what it d-did to us and our relationship all together. Alcoholism runs deeper in my family much farther back than just her, and yes, I absolutely _cannot stand_ that crap, and it makes me feel sick to think of either of us taking it more than exceedingly rarely, b-but everyone has their vices, don’t they? S-Sam is addicted to JoJo Cola, M-Maru is workaholic, you and Abigail go on dangerous adventures…Everyone has their hang-ups, their Achilles heels, and what happens when I find one of my bad ones and I end up just as…just as negligent a-a-and abusive as my mother was to me?!”

No sooner had she finished speaking did she find herself collapsing into the tight embrace of her wife, sobs overtaking any coherence she had left. As she sank in her face into her love’s shirt and wept fiercely, she found the pressure that seized up her stomach into knots had seemingly vanished, and the ice-cold clamps that had kept her heart in a seeming chokehold appeared to have finally loosened enough for her to feel as though she was finally able to breathe deeply. She began slowly and methodically taking big breaths until her head felt clear of all the grief, anxiety, and sorrow she had been holding in secret for far longer than she had even known her partner; it hardly felt real to be so at peace with herself when she finally felt cried out. She was so wrapped up within soothing herself, in fact, that she was thoroughly surprised when she finally lifted her face and found that she and Clary were now sitting outside on their front porch. The sun must have been low in the sky judging by the rich, golden glow it was casting over the shadowy but familiar features of the farm, and Clary, her ever-present and stable wife, was calming sitting with her in her lap as she gazed across their land.

“I-I’m-” Penny began, only to be gently interrupted by being pulled closer against Clary’s chest.

“Please, my love, don’t apologize for having a normal response to heavy topics,” Clary murmured comfortingly. “And don’t apologize for any of my tears, either. I am honored to be able to know more about you and to be able to cry and bond with you.”

“…I know that it must sound silly, though. All of that worry when you already have so much faith in me. Shouldn’t that be enough?” Penny murmured thoughtfully as she laid her own arms across and around her wife’s.

“I definitely don’t think so. I know we both think that love can change and otherwise do amazing, amazing things, but it can’t fix everything by itself,” Clary mused. “I hate to hear you doubting yourself like that, but I hate to imagine you holding it much more than my sadness at your self-loathing. I know you would say the same for me.”

Penny wanted to protest that she cared about Clary’s comfort over her own, but her points were all so reasonable, and she found herself simply nodding smally and curling back against her spouse. Just as they had when Clary first came inside, they remained like that for several long moments, this time allowing them to turn into minutes as the sun sank lower and lower until the sky was full of starkly vibrant colors and it had nearly disappeared from the horizon completely.

“I will do everything I possibly can to help you see yourself as I see you,” Clary eventually said with soft sincerity. “And I promise you that I will catch you if you fall, just like you will catch me if I do as well. We will protect and care for each other unconditionally, just as we have for all this time before now, and we will protect and care for our daughter. If you know nothing else for sure right now, I want you to know this, my Penny…”

To accent her point, Clary carefully but firmly turned her around to face her, and Penny found her breath hitching once more in the wonderment of how beautiful her lady looked with the last of the golden sunlight highlighting her face.

“You. Are not. Your mother.”

Tears sprang into her eyes once more, but this time they were purely from relief and love, and she allowed them to splash over delicately as she kissed her wife with intense passion. The deepness of this kiss was returned readily, and when the two finally pulled away properly for air, the last of the daylight had given way to millions of stars blanketing the sky.

“And you are not my father,” Penny whispered earnestly against her wife’s lips. “…Even more than in the aspect that you are not male.”

The laughter that came from her wife immediately made her giggle, and the two of them were completely dissolved in their delight and mirth as Clary scooped her back up and they half walked, half danced back into their home. There were more insecurities and traumas to work through and to be learned as well as worked through as healthily as possible for both of them, but Penny was completely certain that she would never again be forced to be the head of this home, but be welcomed as an equal to her wife in life as well as in parenting, and they had both already begun to achieve it. 


	2. Certainty [Elliott/Shane]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time that two unique, contrasting souls see each other clearly is in a space that is hardly expected for those seeking clarity.
> 
> Request filled for: CourageousLlama ! Thank you very much for giving me such a phenomenal prompt to play around with and explore; I hope it is well-worth your wait!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The writing for this chapter began on: 9-27-20
> 
> I sincerely wish I could give you, my spectacular readers, more consistent updates. It is simply not possible with my chaotic and overworked schedule and my mental health state, but please, know how much you all mean to me. I love writing and I love all of you, and I am so, so, so grateful for you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you, and happy holidays. ♥

Possibly unsurprisingly, the first time that Elliott truly meets Shane is inside of the Stardrop Saloon.

It is one of those rare Friday evenings where he allows himself reprieve from his usual hermitage and into the town to enjoy some of Gus’s finest wine. He is sitting with his dear friend, Leah, and listening to her grow gradually more and more tipsy as she rants about the latest exploits of that damned Kel to ‘win her back’, which are really just harassment at this point. It is one of those situations where his advice is not needed and his shoulder and ears are what she requires, so he patiently listens as he nurses his own drink and occasionally chimes in with appropriate exclamations so she knows he’s invested, but he cannot help but to be somewhat distracted on this eve.

One of the by-far most well-known occupants of the bar, Shane Westwood, is not drunk. That is not to say that he is not partaking in spirits at all- Elliott has seen him switch every other drink between Joja Cola and his usual brand of beer- but he does not appear to be heavily intoxicated. The base explanation for this is simple enough; he is playing the working arcade game over at the opposite side of the saloon from where he is watching. Still, for the rarity of his coming within this place, he can recall at least a couple of occasions where the other man has been sloppily unsober and bashing the controls of the machine until Gus shooed him away, so surely there must be a specific reason for him to give his liver a rest while he seemingly concentrates intently.

“ _Lio_.” The sound of Leah’s voice interrupts his inner musings, bringing him back to attention with a start. “..You’re not even listening to what I’m saying anymore, are you?”

“Oh, my dear Bee, my sincerest apologies,” Elliott says as hot shame blooms across his cheeks. “I admit, I am a bit distracted, but please be assured that it is not at all because I do not care for what you are saying,”

Her eyes follow to the general area that he was looking before, and at once she smiles lightly before finishing off the remainder of her fourth glass. “Why don’t you just go talk to him? I know he’s not exactly the friendliest guy in town, but he’s actually gotten a lot nicer since he stopped drinking as much.”

“Yes, that is understandable, but… _Why_ do you suppose that is?” Elliott muses aloud, frowning as he wracks his brain for what must be the hundredth time in less than an hour. “Surely if something major were to have happened to trigger such a change in him, the rumor mill would have already long-processed it. I am certainly not the most, ah, s _ocially affluent_ fellow in the Valley, but surely I would have missed something significant…Don’t you think?”

“Why don’t you _ask him_?” Leah reasserts, clumsily lifting her empty glass toward the still intently focusing man and tilting her head back a bit farther than looks naturally. “Don’t worry, I won’t…let him bite ya!”

She laughs loudly now, and though most patrons are either polite enough to disregard it or are too used to it to even acknowledge it, the two of them receive a few wayward, concerned glances. Elliott cannot help but to chuckle a bit himself at her silliness, but it is also a clear sign that it is time to begin gathering up their belongings and get her back to her cabin before she becomes much more belligerent. He stands up and walks to stand behind her, going to gingerly settle his hands on either side of her shoulders so he can more privately suggest they leave the establishment, but she surprises him by wildly waving her arms around until he is forced to step back to avoid catching her hands across his torso or head.

“Leah, dear-!” He exclaims in a whispered exclamation, before she cuts him off by pressing one of her pointer fingers rather roughly against his lips.

“SHHH!” She ‘whisper’ shouts, which is really just shouting with a whispered accent. “Not until you go talk to him!! Like a normal person!!!”

“Bee, there is hardly anything ‘normal’ about myself,” he responds affectionately while moving her offending hand to keep her fingers from splaying directly into his mouth. “I understand and respect your perspective, I really do think it is time that we get you home-”

“ _No_!” Leah asserts sharply, crossing her arms clumsily but pointedly. “Not until you two talk!!”

Surely there is no chance that Shane has not overheard and is not headed for the nearest exit at this rate! Much to Elliott’s surprise, that _does_ seem to be the case, as the man in question is still tapping and adjusting away at the machine, not seeming to be any more flustered or uncomfortable for the wear. The writer considers that he is almost certainly physically capable enough to lead Leah out by applying some gentle-but-firm force, or even to lift her up and carry her, but the possibility of doing so without her making a _spectacular_ scene in response. Indeed, that would be far, far more mortifying than him simply sating his curiosity, not to mention how he would ultimately be responsible for the betrayal of Leah’s trust in him to not allow her to make an ass of herself when she is in need for someone to look after her so she can cope with the stressors in her life.

“Very well.” Elliott gently adjusts his friend to sit up more securely within her seat before making small adjustments to his appearance; one should not underestimate the importance of first impressions. “But we are to go straight to your home right after, alright?”

“Sir, yes sir!” Leah says with a dopy, victorious grin, and he really just cannot bear to be truly cross with her.

As he approaches Shane properly now, Elliott cannot help but to notice how generally _different_ that he looks in appearance as well. Yes, he still wears that absolutely tattered Joja Co. jacket as well as shirts that seem to be largely from of his younger days (rather than anything new), but his eyes are less glassy, his shadow of a beard is clearly maintained, and any stains on his clothing are clearly very old and long beyond washing out. Truly, the little details of becoming more sober are obvious to him, though he is a rather detail-orientated gentleman in general, he must concede…

“Uh, can I help you?” Even though his eyes still haven’t left the screen, Shane’s directness cannot be misconstrued. “Or are you just going to keep staring a hole in me?”

“O-oh my gracious!” The heat on his face feels as bright as the sun at once, and Elliott apologetically steps back and dips into an instinctual half-bow. “My apologies, Shane. I mean no disrespect or nuisance to you, but I have…an inquiry, if you would be so inclined to answer it.”

Shane grunts, one hand digging around in one of his pockets for some more coins as the timer begins to flash on the console before him. “Uh, okay…Inquire away, dude.”

“Well…” Why in Yoba’s graces did Leah think this a wise idea, and why did _he_ think it would be best to listen to her when she is not even remotely sober? “I was…wondering…what may be the reasoning behind your…altered drinking habits, truthfully.”

At once the other man snorts through his nose, and shame burns white-hot through Elliott before the retort is even said. “What, I’m not allowed to stop fuckin’ up my liver just because I want to?”

“I-I am…I am so incredibly sorry!” Even ‘mortified’ does not feel adequate in expressing how he feels at this time, and Elliott is quick to retreat further, back toward the table where Leah is undoubtedly watching with no shame to be found. “P-please, enjoy your evening!”

Thankfully, Leah does not fuss or protest when he wastes absolutely no time in throwing down the payment and tip to their tabletop and exiting the saloon with full haste. It was absolutely out of line for him to ask anything so personal, so potentially sensitive, and he is fully admonishing himself the entire time he spends making sure that his friend is safe and settled for the evening before beginning the trek back to the beach. He is just passing the saloon once more when the door opens, revealing the very person he has been silently trying to will the fates to not force him to see once again, at least for the night. At once he blushes anew, but the thought of quickening his pace and making it obvious that he’d try to avoid whatever repercussions have followed his own blundering, is almost as abhorrent as the initial mistakes. Therefore, he keeps his pace steady, though he does not go out of his way to make eye contact or acknowledge the other gent until he is spoken to.

“Yo.” Shane, still almost completely sober and looking to be as aloof as ever, plods his way with his hands in his jacket’s front pockets. “You good?”

“A-ah, yes, I am quite alright,” he says, turning around properly to face him as the butterflies of anxiety swarm inside his belly. “Yourself?”

“Yeah, I’m alright.” Shane shrugs, and the way he looks at him, Elliott is certain that he’s staring straight through his very soul. “Uh, I just wanted you to know that I know I was kind of an ass earlier. I’m sorry for that.”

He has to admit, that was one of the last things he would have ever expected, and not just because he is not sure that he has ever heard much sincerity in their previous brief, impersonal encounters. “You…You do not have anything to apologize for, sir. I am the one who clearly violated your comfort and unspoken boundaries, and that was very rude of me. Truly, _I_ am very sincerely sorry.”

Shane snorts, but this time, the sound is less agitated and seems like much more of a half-laugh. “Alright, we’re both sorry, then, but there are no hard feelings, okay?”

“A…alright, if you do so insist,” Elliott replies softly, causing the other man to outright laugh, and resulting in an entirely different kind of flustered pink to decorate his cheeks.

“Yoba’s tits, you must really love to hear yourself talk!” Shane says, and somewhere inside his heart, Elliott feels as though some crack has begun to threaten at his composure; it is small, but if left unattended…

“I…I apologize,” he half-mumbles.

“Aw, man, I didn’t…Shit.” Shane closes the distance between them now, and he seems to be unsure of what to do for a couple of moments before he rests a hand on Elliott’s shoulder. “Look, I just…You talk really fancy, and that’s honestly pretty cool. I’m just not used to it, that’s all. Anyway, I’m sorry for getting all in your face about your question, and, well, I’m sorry for hurting your feelings just now, too. I really can be a complete ass.”

“There is nothing wrong with your conciseness in your speech, either, you know,” Elliott manages once silence settles between them; one not quite awkward, but not quite comfortable, either. “It is certainly more efficient than all of my flowery prose in casual conversation…Heh, my point remains.”

At this gentle call-out of his own speaking style, both men laugh, and the sound bounces from the otherwise empty streets as the tension relieves itself from their bodies. Now, in the early hours of the morning on a Friday evening, the two of them have transcended their own little worlds and met somewhere in the middle, and it feels foreign, but it’s also not so scary now.

“But I really do insist that you did not and do not have to answer anything you are not ready to. Truthfully, it is none of business in the first place,” Elliott continues as the laughter naturally ebbs away.

“I mean, everyone knows I’ve been one of the town drunk assholes. It’s really fine for you to know, El,” Shane says, and even with the strong reaction he had before, Elliott cannot help but to trust every word he says. “I had a bad episode that landed me at the clinic. I don’t want Jas to grow up worried about me, and this last little booze-fest of mine really shook her and Marnie up, so…Yeah. This is me trying.”

So there _was_ something significant, though he can somewhat understand why something this sensitive may not be widespread in a public fashion, even from his aunt, who loves to talk of everything in her life. “Shane…”

“Aw, c’mon, you don’t have to give me that pity bullshit,” Shane groans at once, and even in the pale lighting from the few streetlamps lighting the area, Elliott does not miss the colors of shame adorning the other’s face now. “I know I dug myself into this pit; I’ve got to pull myself back out. I’m not…I’m not a project for anyone else. I’m tired of being everyone’s problem.”

There are a few beats of silence as Elliott debates internally on what to say, but ultimately, the words flow as though he were writing them down. “I have no reason to believe that anyone considers you to be a ‘problem’, Shane. Certainly, your previous drinking habits were far from healthy, and it got you into difficult positions and caused issues at times, but that does not inherently make _you_ something that must be solved or taken away. Truthfully, your willingness to face this road to recovery, which is still so new and undoubtedly daunting, tells me all that I or anyone else needs to know about your character. I commend you for it, and I do not intend to allow your self-deprecation to overshadow the significance of your own strength, and the undeniable love you have for your family.”

Another foreign silence fills the space remaining between they two. Elliott is just beginning to consider if he should clarify further, or simply leave the other man be, when Shane gives him a genuine and crooked grin that makes his own heart flutter more than the remnants of his own anxiety. “You know what, El? You’re pretty cool. I like your funny words, Beach Man~”

This causes Elliott to laugh aloud once more, which proves to be delightfully imitable, and he has the notion to gingerly rest one of his hands on the other’s hand, which is still resting on his shoulder in a way that he is almost certain is intentional. “And I feel the same for you…my superb Shane.”

Possibly unsurprisingly, the first time that Elliott truly met Shane was inside of the Stardrop Saloon, but it an absolute that it will be far from the last time they find each other so absolutely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember to leave kudos/bookmark/subscribe/leave a comment if it so compels you! Requests are open!


	3. The Next Adventure [Abigail/Female Farmer]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the day that Abigail's life is going to change forever with her best friend who has recently become her partner, there are complications in the adventure that seem inevitable.
> 
> Request filled for: TheUnnamedAvatar! Thank you so very much for all of your support and patience, and I sincerely hope that you enjoy this chapter! I did my absolute best to fill it as you asked, and though it isn't precisely what was suggested, I am really proud of this and I hope you will be as well!
> 
> [Content Warnings for this Chapter: Verbal abuse [Parent to Child]]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello to all of my beautiful readers, and welcome to the very first update of 2021! With this, my last semester of college as an undergraduate, being all traditionally online, I'm sincerely hoping to have much more time to write! I've certainly at least recovered from the horrific, terrible, awful, no-good, VERY bad burnout on life and all of my hobbies because of the sheer stress and severe overworking from it last semester, so here's to hoping, and I'll do my best as always! ♥ Thank you again so very much to all of you, and especially to TheUnnamedAvatar, who requested this one-shot! Enjoy! :)
> 
> Content Warnings for this Chapter: Verbal abuse [Parent to Child]

It has been a year and half since Zoe Armstrong and her little sister moved to Pelican Town, so it is only natural that their grandfather’s old farm would look spectacularly different from the last time she saw it, but Abby is still surprised by how much the old place has been transformed in that relatively short amount of time. Those overgrown fields and gnarled trees that she once spent so much time trapezing around are now groomed down or are gone all together, and the autumn sky above seems even more endless now that there aren’t clusters of tree canopies to almost completely choke out the sun. The ground is a lot easier to walk across now, too, but she’s still grateful that she wore her thickest, sturdiest boots as she follows her best friend into the old-but-clearly-refurbished farmhouse.

“Well, here she is!” Zoe announces as she spreads out her arms. “Home, sweet home!”

“Whoa,” Abby marvels, not even bothering to hide her awe and fascination with the gothic accents to an already poetically-beautiful structure. “Damn, even that writer guy who lives on the beach would probably struggle putting this properly into words!

“’That writer guy who lives on the beach?’” Zoe repeats with a teasing grin and a laugh. “Abs, he _has_ a name.”

“Why worry about names when my label is both descriptive _and_ factual?” Abby snarks in her return, earning another one of her darling companion’s laughs and a playful swat.

“You’re a brat,” the farmer remarks with clear affection in her words.

“I’m _your_ brat,” Abby cheekily replies, to which Zoe responds with another affectionate sigh and a kiss on the top of her head that makes the gothic woman flush a bright pink.

“You are,” Zoe responds with more sincerity in her words. “Do you really think that this will be an alright house for you? If you need me to modify or add anything, we can definitely talk about it…”

“It’s fantastic, Zo,” Abby says with a genuine smile of her own. “I absolutely love it here already. I’m ready when you are to start packing and moving.”

Zoe definitely seems relieved as she brings her closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead this time that does precisely nothing to help the redness in her cheeks, but she doesn’t _really_ mind. For as long as she can remember in what followed the bygone days of blissful, unaware childhood, Abby has longed to move out from beneath her parents’ oppressive thumbs. As soon as she grew from an idyllic little girl into a young woman with strong views and opinions that weren’t exactly like their own, they’d been bearing down on her, harder and harder until she felt like she could barely breathe beneath the weight of their expectations and baggage. It’s as if they think that if they can choke her out enough, she’ll eventually stop this ‘rebellious, troubled’ behavior and go back to the carefree ‘little angel’ that they constantly reference to, and Yoba, she is _tired_ of all of the fighting and conflict, but she decided a long time ago that they could either take or leave the person their daughter was. With both of them as stubborn and unempathetic as ever, it was time for Abigail Taffe to leave the nest and be with the person that she loved the most in the world.

Soon, Zoe is ready to head back to the store/house and get to work, and the two young women climb back into the farmer’s worn-down but still-very-functional blue truck to drive the relatively short distance back. Her parents know that she’s moving out- she’s not so heartless that she wouldn’t tell them- but Abby also knows that there’s almost no way that another fight isn’t coming when they start actually taking her stuff out. Sure enough, her father and mother are standing in the shop together, obviously waiting for the two of them to arrive. When she sees them through glass windows, Abby immediately tenses up, but then Zoe takes her hand and pressing a kiss to the back of her knuckles.

“Everything is going to be alright,” the farmer- _her_ farmer, now that they’re officially dating and moving in together- reassures. “We’ll talk to them, but it ultimately doesn’t matter too much what they think. You and I are going to be happy and we’re going to build even more a life together no matter what.”

“O-okay,” Abby says, and she believes it, but that doesn’t completely settle the anxiety churning in her stomach as they both climb out of the vehicle and head inside.

“So, today’s the big day!” Pierre’s voice immediately announces as soon as they make it inside. “Do you two ladies need any help with those big, heavy boxes? I know I’m not exactly the calvary, but I’m sure I can manage whatever you throw my way!”

Abby exchanges a way glance with her girlfriend, but she really doesn’t want to start problems where there don’t have to be ones if she can avoid it.” …Yeah, Dad, that sounds great. Thanks.”

“I made everyone lunch before we get started,’ Caroline says with a small smile. “Why don’t we all sit down and enjoy it before it gets cold? It’s Spicy Eel, Abby; your favorite!”

She has to admit, her mother remembering one of her favorite dishes and making it especially for today makes her feel really loved. “Y-yeah, sure, that sounds great, Mom.”

The four of them sit around the table and enjoy the meal together, and Abby begins to relax some of her tension as everyone seems to slip into mostly effortless, natural conversation. Even if _she_ doesn’t always get along very well with both of her folks, Zoe tends to get along with just about everyone, and if anybody could warm her old-fashioned parents up to the idea of her living anywhere but with them, it’s her best friend/partner. Once everyone has had their fill (and chased it with plenty of water/milk), they all get to work on taking the packed boxes out to the truck, where the easy conversation continues intermittently. They’re just about done with the whole project- Abby just put David into the seat between the driver and passenger sides- when it’s noticed that Caroline hasn’t been back outside for a while. Abby goes back in first to check on her mom, where she finds her standing in her now practically barren room, staring up at the now poster-less walls with a troubled look on her face.

“Mom?” Abby says with a frown, prompting the feeling of dread in the pit of her belly to return with a new vengeance. “What’s wrong?”

“I…I suppose I am just reminiscing, dear,” Caroline says softly, and a pang of both guilt and adrenaline spiking through Abby. “Do you remember when you were a little girl, and you and I used to paint for hours on those old canvases that Robin made you?”

“Yeah, I always had to beg Sebastian to join us,” Abby says with a small laugh. “Even when he was little like me, he was ‘too cool’ to do painting.”

“But we always had so much fun together.” Caroline reaches up, tracing the spot where one of Abby’s favorite band’s posters had been hanging before. “The things that you two could come up with, especially you…We would lay them out to dry on the balcony, and then we’d hang them up here with those fairy lights you used to love so much.”

“I remember those! And then we’d have to take them down the next time we wanted to paint, because there was never enough room for me when we finished a session,” Abby says with a small laugh. “Maybe we overachieved a little.”

“You know, I kept every single one of those paintings,” Caroline says with a sad smile. “It’s a little silly, isn’t it? An old woman like me hanging on to relics of the past, but…Sometimes I feel like they’re a way I can still connect to you, and to really understand you, even now.”

“Aw, Mom…” Abby leans against her mother’s shoulder now, and even when her mom wraps her arm around her and leans her cheek against the top of her forehead, she doesn’t squirm or whine as though she truly minds (she doesn’t.) “I’m…not a little kid anymore, but I’m still _your_ kid. I still want to spend time with you, and to make good memories with you…And hey, now that I don’t live in here anymore, we can totally fill up these walls with even more probably-kind-of-terrible paintings all you like! How’s that sound?”

At this, Caroline laughs, and the half-hug turns into a full one. “I would love that.”

Abby takes these moments as a chance to relax against her female parent, even closing her eyes briefly as she returns the embrace. “So would I. I…I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, Abby, so much.”

They’re just stepping away from their hug when Pierre walks in, his eyebrows knit. “Is everything alright, you two?”

“Yes dear, everything is fine,” Caroline replies with a smile. “Is everything ready to go for Abigail?”

“Yes, everything is loaded up,” Pierre says, glancing back toward the storefront. “Ms. Armstrong is securing everything right now with her cable-gear-things.”

There is a small pause after this, and Abby is nearly sure that this actually went well when he keeps talking, just like he always so loves to do.

“It will certainly be pretty lonely around here without you, Abigail,” he says in a not-so-subtle passive aggressive tone. “Well, that is for whatever time you actually come out of your room and spend time with your family…”

“Dad,” she groans in protest, but it seems he’s been saving this spiel the entire time, because he hardly pauses.

“Look, all I’m trying to say is that it’s a little _weird_ that you’ve only been dating this girl for a couple of weeks, and now you’re moving in with her! I know that you’ve been friends with her for a lot longer than that, but that isn’t the same thing as wanting to _live_ with her! I mean, that’s almost always something saved for at the very least engagement, but when you’ve barely known each other as romantic partners??”

“Dad-”

“And Ms. Armstrong is a very busy farmer! Look, I know your mother and I have always done our best to be understanding and accommodating during your little ‘spells’ of being sad or antisocial, but if Ms. Armstrong is going to continue being our biggest buyer and providing for the entire community, then she needs someone by her side who will chip in, not someone who mopes around in her room all day and mopes around when she’s out of it-”

“DAD.”

Abby’s pulse is so rapid that she can hear it pounding in her ears, and even though she knows her pale skin must be bright red, her fury is far too great to care how she looks. “That’s _all_ you think I do?! What about all of those times I stocked the shelves without being asked to? What about the fact I’m in online classes to get a college degree right now, and those each give me tons of homework? What about the fact that my depression is a DIAGNOSED disorder that I take medicine for, and just because you think I used to be perfect before I started wearing dark clothes and dying my hair doesn’t mean that I was, or that my life has EVER been perfect!”

“You have had a MORE than good life here!” Pierre rages back. “I work hard every single day, and I’ve done so to put you and your mother first, and this is the thanks I get?! You have never wanted for ANYTHING, little girl! You have been living here rent-free while you take your classes, and you want to throw that back in our faces now for someone who could easily not be compatible with you and send you back here within a month!”

A cold spike of anxiety races up her back. “Zoe would never do that!”

“Abigail, what your father is trying to say-” Caroline begins, but it is far too late to save this argument from complete annihilation.

“I mean, damn, Abigail! What _have_ you made of yourself since you graduated high school? What do you bring to the farmer’s table?!” Pierre demands, his eyes cold and cruel, and whatever goodwill that was struggling to remain itself Abigail positively shatters along with her heart.

“You think that Zoe is too good for me.”

As soon as she says it, Pierre’s gaze shifts briefly, and a look of horror slowly dawns on his face. “That’s not what I-”

“Oh, fucking _please_ , Dad,” Abby practically spits, the tears in her eyes and going down her hot face absolutely nothing against the fire of resentment and loathing that sets ablaze the forest of resentment, insecurity, and resentment in her heart. “When you talk about me, everything you say is that I’m ‘mopey’, that I’m ‘lazy’, that I haven’t done ANYTHING in the past four years! When you talk about HER, it’s all that she’s AMAZING, that she’s our BEST customer, that she brings SO MUCH to your YOBA DAMNED table!”

Caroline is crying now as well, and Pierre looks dazed as he takes a step toward her. “Abigail-”

“YOU keep my name out of your mouth!” Abby seethes in response, gripping her hands into fists at her side as she storms between her parents as fast as she possibly can. “DON’T call me, DON’T message me, and DON’T come to the farm. You’re _not_ fucking welcome.”

By the times she has booked it back to Zoe’s truck, she can’t see at all through her tears, and she barely gets sat back in the passenger seat by the time she starts sobbing. Thank Yoba and all of the stars, Zoe hops in the truck and starts driving, and she doesn’t even ask what happened until Abby has sobbed so hard and so much that her throat feels raw and her entire face is both aching and completely disgusting.

“I…got into a really bad argument with them,” Abby says, her voice thin like paper. “I…I cursed at them, I told them they w-weren’t welc-c-come here…”

Zoe puts her arm around her the best that she can with David’s guinea pig cage in the way, then assures her that she will get out and meet her from the other side. When the truck door opens, Abby is promptly unbuckled, then lifted out of her seat like a bride, which makes her squeak and immediately grab onto her best friend’s neck. Zoe carries her as though she is as light as a child all the way to a cavern entrance that she’d never been able to get into on her own due to a boulder blocking it, which looks almost completely pitch-black on the inside. That boulder is completely gone now, and before she can ask what in the world they’re doing, they’re inside of the area, and the sound of bats squeaking sends shivers racing up her spine as adrenaline begins to kick her heart back into rapid beating.

“Z-Zo-!”

“Shh,” Zoe croons, and her tone is so comforting that Abby can’t help but to listen. “These bats aren’t like the aggressive monsters in the mines. They’re fruit bats, and they leave fruits down here for me pretty often. They’re sweet and shy, and they won’t mind us being in here for a bit.”

The hideaway _is_ perfect, and it ensures that nobody would have any idea where to find them. Abby leans heavily against her partner and closes her eyes, listening to the sounds of the bats up above, feeling Zoe’s strong, steady heartbeat, appreciating how much nicer in temperature this cave is. It still takes several minutes of this serenity, but then Abby is finally ready to talk about what happened more calmly, and the two of them relocate so that they can both feed and pet the farm animals while they talk.

Saying all of the horrible things that were exchanged in the fight hurts Abby’s heart and sense of calm overall, especially when she thinks about how she has never talked so crassly to her folks and that she made her own mother cry, but Zoe listens very patiently and without saying much. When she’s done and buries her face into a sheep’s budding wool, preparing to be scolded or fussed over, she finds that her farmer is strangely silent. Abby listens as her love moves around the barn, milking the rest of the animals that are ready to be and refilling the trough with hay, but Zoe is strangely silent until she walks back over and gathers her into a massive, tight hug.

“Pierre is wrong,” she says softly, and her grip tightens on the back of Abby’s shirt even more. “He’s wrong about you if that’s what he really thinks or has thought. Abby…Abigail. You’ve brought so much joy to my life. You…you made me feel like a person when I was too wracked with torment to speak. You’ve given me supplies to make sure I’m safe on my mining exhibitions, you’ve shown me so many movies and shows that make me laugh and cry, you’ve pulled me into more fandoms that I can count on five pairs of hands…You reached out to me when I felt like I was fading away from everybody else. Y-you…you saw how I was slow to trust people, and that I was ready to work myself into the ground to feel like I was alive, and…You were my best friend, b-but you’re even _more_ than all of that. You’re far more than any achievement that you could gain, b-because…because you’re _you_. You are so charming, so intelligent, so full of life and love and passion and wit and fire, and you found me when I needed you the most. You found me, and now I’ll find you, over and over again, through the deepest, darkest, scariest parts of life, and together we’ll find our way back to the surface. I _promise_.”

Abby sinks herself into Zoe’s embrace, listening to her words and now crying for entirely different reasons. When her love is quiet and simply holding her tight with her own tears seeping through her hair, Abby slowly adjusts to sit against her while supporting herself more, rubbing Zoe’s back and murmuring the best words of comfort and affirmation that she can think of. She’s certain she’s not nearly as poetic as all Zoe had just waxed, but soon her love sits back with a smile, and the two of them meet each other in a deep, passionate kiss that leaves them both breathless and giggling.

As they head back to the truck to begin unpacking for their lives together, Abby squeezes Zoe’s hand as it holds her own. “Hey…don’t…don’t hate my father, okay? He’s an asshole, and I’m not going to let him treat you or me like shit, but…I definitely don’t want to see Joja run the shop of business, and I definitely don’t want Mom to be hurt anymore.”

Zoe grimaces, and especially when Abby knows that her dear companion has been very prone to cutting off people for less in the time before they met, she’s relieved by the response. “I’ll do my best for you and Caroline.”

Abby gives her love another kiss as they reach the lamplight that illuminates the front of Zoe’s- no, _their_ farmhouse- and the two of them relish in each other’s touch and affection before she breaks away with a small bounce. “Now! Let’s go inside, and let’s see if we can get some of this stuff moved in… _and_ see if I can get some of those amazing words out of you to show off to Beach Writer Man!”

The full extent of all that was hurt and broken on that night with Abby and her parents- her father much moreso- cannot possibly be resolved with one night of comfort and understanding from her incredible best-friend-turned-partner, but with said Zoe by her side and the kind of love they have, Abby is ready to face whatever adventures lie ahead.


	4. Small-Time Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When eight-year-old Emily wakes up in the middle of the night, she is not immediately sure why, but as she will learn more throughout the entirety of her life, everything happens for a reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hark! What is this? An update the day following the first update of 2021, on this, the day of 1-20-21? It appears that the creative flame I have had more to give me, and I am certainly not complaining! I hope you all enjoy this little one-shot that was born from how I roleplay Emily (which is quite often!), and how I adore the way that this bean loves so truly and without discrimination and judgment.

When she first wakes up in the middle of the night, eight-year-old Emily is not sure why. She rubs her eyes and shivers as she sits up from the heaps of blankets and quilts on her bed, thus removing the cocoon of warmth that she’s been soundly sleeping in before just now. For a moment she fumbles around her covers before finding her Bunny Jewel flashlight, which she flips on to look over at her little sister. To her relief, Haley is still soundly asleep, her blonde hair falling all around her pillows as she snuggles up to her small mountain of stuffed animals and pillows. Emily shines the light at the window next, and it’s frosted over with ice that makes beautiful patterns that reach up toward the top of the house. Even with the cold, she crawls the rest of the way out from under the warmth and hops to the ground, walking over to it and thinking that she could use her finger to draw little shapes and ‘small-time friends’ (which are friends that can only stay for a small amount of time) before going back to bed. As she reaches it, though, she hears a strange noise _again_ , and it makes her jump and shine her flashlight closer to the glass.

Much to her amazement, there are little creatures out in front of her house that she’s never seen before, not even in all of her books. They are kind of small, and they’re apple shaped, and they are all kinds of different colors. Even from where she’s standing, she can tell that they’re covered in ice, just like the window, and she thinks at once that means that they’re definitely cold. Her heart goes out to them, and she decides at once that she’s got to help these poor little things out. The only problems are that Mama and Papa wouldn’t be happy if they knew she was out of bed, and it’s not gonna be easy to sneak out without accidentally either waking them or her baby sister up, but she doesn’t want to just _not_ help these poor little friends out because she doesn’t want to maybe get in trouble.

First, she slowly opens up her sock drawer and slides one over the lit-up part of the flashlight, making there be light but not _too_ much light. After that, she pulls on a couple of more pairs of big, fuzzy socks, then a couple of her leggings from the top of that drawer, just like her Papa taught her to do to stay nice and warm in the snow. She then pulls on a couple of long-sleeved shirts over her maroon nightgown, her long winter coat, and her mittens before finally pulling her knit hat with the puff balls dangling down with another one on the top over her head. Now that she’s good and ready for the outside in her clothing, she makes her way over to Haley’s dresser, where she begins to pulls the pairs of mittens out that she knows her sister hasn’t worn in at least a couple of years (because she has an entire big drawer full of them cause she likes ‘variety’.) She then sneaks to the bedroom door and slowly pushes it open, making sure multiple times that the rest of the house is completely dark before she creeps out.

Once she’s made it to the kitchen, Emily slowly opens up the cabinets and gets three packages of hot chocolate. She uses the kitchen sink to fill up three mugs with hot water, then grabs a spoon to stir it in. When she takes a little taste, she makes a _yuck_ face, and decides she’s gotta risk using the microwave. One mug at a time, she runs them in the humming microwave, stopping it before it can beep super loudly and definitely give her away. She uses her sleeves to bring them back out and stirs them again, and when all three of them are done and taste good, her heart is beating super, super, _super_ loud in her chest. She takes a minute to do some slow, deep breaths like her Papa taught her to do when she’s scared, but she doesn’t wanna keep her little friends outside waiting, so she restuffs Haley’s mittens into her coat pockets and begins to inch toward the front door with the hot drinks.

It’s hard to carry _all_ of the mugs, and she has to put them on the coffee table to slowly, slowly, _slowly_ open the front door. All of the cold air from outside comes inside with a _whoosh_ , and she shivers again as she grabs the drinks and steps out into the coldness and snow. She has to put one of the mugs down to close the front door, and then she picks it back up and walks carefully so that she doesn’t spill anything as she goes around to where she saw her little friends. She’s really glad to see that they’re still there, and she gives them a big smile when one of them sees her for the first time and does a _big_ jump!

“Hi!” She says, her breath coming out in puffs as she talks to them. “Don’t be scared! I’m here to help you!”

Her little apple friends, who are beginning to run away and try to hide in the snow from her, don’t seem to understand. She frowns and sets down the mugs again, stepping toward the nearest one. It is even smaller than its’ other friends and is a light grey color that makes it almost look just like the snow, so it must be extra chilly now. She pulls out one of the pairs of mittens from one of her pockets and gently scoops it up, making it squeak and make even more weird noises as it clearly panics. She brings it close to her heart and gently begins to pet it, nice and soft, just like she does with their kitty and doggy. It takes a little while, but the poor friend in her cupped hands slowly calms down and looks into her eyes.

She gives it a smile, trying to make it feel as safe as it and all of its’ friends are now. “My name is Emily. I’m here to help you and your friends out, okay? You’ve gotta be really cold out here.”

As she looks to her friend and talks, she doesn’t look away from its’ eyes, and either this or her words seem to make it happier. Suddenly, the girl feels a rush of warmth over her entire body, like she’s gotten a nice, big hug, and she smiles even more! Somehow, she is completely sure that her little friend did that, and this doesn’t make her feel scared; quite the opposite. Just as she begins to pull one of the mittens around her friend’s small body, she hears a voice in her head that is soft-spoken and high, kind of like hers.

“ _You are most kind, little human. This is most unusual.”_

“Oh, _I’m_ unusual!” She says with a little giggle. “Everyone says that, even my Mama and Papa. I’m kind of not like _aaaannnyyyooooonneee_ else!”

_“Bless you, child. You must be one with the forest and nature.”_

“Uh-huh! I love playing outside!” Emily chirps, allowing her little friend to hop onto her shoulder as the others slowly begin coming closer. “It’s okay, I want to help you! I won’t hurt you! I love finding yummy things around in the forest, and playing in the rivers and on the beach, and finding _super_ pretty rocks and gems and stuff!”

 _“Do you know the local sorcerer?”_ Another one, who is bright green and jumps into her open palm, asks.

“What’s a sorcerer?” She asks, tilting her head to the side.

_“He lives in a castle in the forest. He is quiet and alone.”_

_“We are sure he will notice that we have arrived soon.”_

_“He will want to speak with us.”_

_“Perhaps he will be kind, like you-”_

_“-or perhaps he will be a foe-”_

_“-and we will not be welcome here.”_

All of her little friends are coming and getting a mitten each- they’re so small that even one fits them like a cozy sweater- and speaking to her, all inside of her head. She doesn’t really know what all of those words mean, and who the man is that they’re talking about, but she’s seen the castle-thing in the woods that looks like a wizard’s tower from her books. Whoever this man is, though, he doesn’t sound very nice, because saying that somebody is not welcome when they’re nice is a very rude thing to do. These little creatures are her friends, and that’s that!

“Well, you’re always welcome to me!” She says with confidence as she helps the last one into their mitten. “We’re friends now, okay? And friends look out for each other, and don’t let bullies make them feel like they belong.”

_“You are a most wonderful human, child.”_

_“We are friends!”_

_“Friends-“_

_“-friends-”_

_“-friends-”_

They’re all echoing it and jumping again, but this time it is happily, and she giggles as they hop around and on her with joy. Before long, all of the hot chocolate from all of her mugs has been drained, and all of them seem to be much more comfortable. She’s had a really great time hanging out with them, but now her eyes are getting super heavy, and she can’t help but to yawn when she looks up at the big night sky and sees all of the snow falling down.

_“Our friend-”_

_“-Emily-”_

_“-she is tired-”_

_“-she must rest now-”_

_“-we will help-”_

_“-help our friend in return-”_

_“-help our friend as she helped us-”_

The feeling of a big, warm hug comes across her again, then again and again, and she feels even more sleepy as they all hop onto her, kind of like they’re going to sleep on her like the family kitty does sometimes.

“Will we play again soon?” She murmurs as her eyes start closing and she yawns again.

_“We will see you again, child-”_

_“-friend Emily-”_

_“-we will see you again~”_

Feeling so nice and cozy and content, Emily’s eyes close completely, and she falls into a comfortable, deep sleep.

* * *

When the girl wakes the following morning, she finds that she does not have all of the layers of clothes that she had on when she went outside in the nighttime, and they’re all dry and feel normal in the places they were in before. The mugs from the kitchen aren’t dirty and are in the cabinet where she got them, and even her flashlight is in the covers where she found it before, too. Most girls would think that what happened was just a really cool dream, but Emily knows better, and she simply can’t wait to play with her friends again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember to leave kudos/subscribe/bookmark/leave a comment if it so compels you! ♥ Requests are still very much open as well, if it so compels you, and thank you so very, very, very much to all of you that have already done so! Feel free to submit multiple if you like, and I immensely look forward to writing those I've received!


	5. I'll carry your burden, I'll shield your body [Abigail/Female Player]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abigail finds herself alone, in the wilderness, with an unconscious woman (who she is very in love with) and who is seemingly on death's door.
> 
> Prompt Filled For: Flying_Pineapple !

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me start this off with a very, very massive THANK YOU to Flying_Pineapple, who suggested an amazingly detailed and well-thought-out prompt for this one-shot! I had so, so, SO much fun writing this, and I hope that everything lives up to your expectations, and that you (and everyone else!) loves this as much as I do. I tried to keep several pieces of the writing you did in, with some minor adjusts for tense and additions! 
> 
> CONTENT WARNINGS: Mentions of death, hospitalization 
> 
> And finally, ANYTHING IN BOLD WAS WRITTEN IN THE PROMPT BY Flying_Pineapple, and the rest is mine! Enjoy! ♥

The first time that Abigail realized that the old mining elevator was still working after years and years of no activity, she’d been dubious of their stability and unsure of the weight capacity they may have, so she put off using it for several visits as she stuck to very shallow floor levels. Now that she was side-by-side in them with one of her best friends, the two of them injured and feeling groggy from the day they’d spent in the deeper levels of these old mines, she was exclusively grateful for their durability. 

“Man, I’m starvin’,” Abigail remarks as the machine rumbles and creaks its’ usual quick ascension to the topmost floor. “I’m thinking we go to the saloon and kick ass the arcade games to unwind. What about you?”

“Yeah, that sounds great, honeybee,” Tess grunts with a kind smile. “I’m pretty sure I’m just going to straight-up inhale an entire pizza.”

“Hey, as long as you let me record it and make us Internet famous~” Abigail teases, earning as her a playful swat to her arm as the elevator dings upon stopping.

As the two of them exit the mines and begin walking toward town, Abigail reflects back on the adventure’s events. The day had been successful in that they’d gathered all kinds of gems and ores (including a whole rucksack of amethysts!), but gathering aside, it had been incredibly stressful and full of close-calls. Some dwarfs set out an explosive device with a trip-wire that could have easily taken them both out if not for Tess spotting it and hauling them away as far as possible before it went off, a whole bunch of skeletons pulled off an entire-ass ambush that seemed way too complex given their general bone-headedness (heh), and they’d run into a nest of poisonous slimes that was as aggressive as it was huge. Abigail was only a novice, that was no secret, but she can’t help but feel useless as she thinks about how Tess dealt so bravely and so skillfully with every hardship they faced today. It was all that the novice could do to carry a lot of the loot and take out either the insects or the nearly-vanquished monsters that Tess left her to finish off, and even that made her anxious about taking any kind of life, so it wasn’t surprising that her best friend had to be the one to handle pretty much everything. If she was really being honest with herself, Abigail wasn’t really certain _why_ her companion always seemed to be so happy to bring her along. It was clear that she could do mining herself with no trouble, and sure, Abigail loved adventuring and spending time with her, but…

 **“Abbi…I hope you have some strength left.”** Tess’s voice pulls Abigail out of her train of thought, and said thought train is outright abandoned in the gothic woman’s mind when she takes a look at her companion’s face, which is beaded with sweat as well as drawn tight with anger and fear.

 **“Yeah, I think I do, why?** ” Abigail asks, frowning as she turns to face her best friend fully; Tess is standing perfectly still now, her eyes trained on the set of gashes on her arm that were made by a twice-damned warrior. “You’re… **you’re not thinking of going back in, are you?”**

Tess shakes her head and lifts up her head, giving Abigail a better look at how pale the tanned farmer’s face is now. **“No, no, nothing like that, it’s just…”**

Abigail barely has time to react before Tess stumbles forward, but she’s still quick enough to catch her darling friend. Tess leans forward heavily, her breathing funny and labored, and leans her head back onto Abigail’s shoulder. Tess’s viridian eyes, which Abigail has always thought reminded her of the rivers in the deep woods, are not full of her usual confidence and thoughtfulness. Instead, they are massively dilated and full of raw, unabashed _fear_ , and it sends a cold chill splintering down Abigail’s back.

 **“I think** …” Tess murmurs, swaying side-to-side even as she leans almost all of her weight on Abigail. **“I’m going to pass out.”**

 **The skilled adventurer attempts to smile, but then her eyes roll back into her head** and she has to be caught even more tightly to avoid falling face-down on the ground. Not even five minutes ago, Abigail was internally marveling and comparing herself to how invincible her redhaired mentor and best friend was, **and now she’s left alone in the wilderness with the unconscious woman who looks to be on death’s door.**

At first, Abigail seems unable to react at all other than standing with Tess in her arms, her own lips parted in shock and her eyes certainly attempting to bulge from her face. Then, she slowly brings herself into a kneeling position, adjusting Tess as gently as possible to sit with her back braced against Abigail’s raised knee and her backside on the ground.

“Tess?” Abigail whispers, shaking her shoulders gently, but as she repeats her darling friend’s name and continues shaking, both grow more urgent and powerful. “Tess…Tess, please tell me you’re joking…You’re just joking, right, Tess…? Tess…TESSIE! Tessie, wake up, please, Tessie, wake up!!! TESSIE!”

No matter how she pleads and how tears begin streaking down her face, Tess doesn’t move a muscle, and Abigail is struck with the horrible gravity of the situation. She covers her mouth with her hands, muffling a sob into them, but then she is filled a sense of raw determination that makes every hair on her arms stand on end and gives her enough clarity to know what she has to do. Not even thirty seconds pass before Abigail has pulled Tess back to her feet just long enough to lift her over one shoulder, and the purple-haired woman is running while stumbling badly as fast as she possibly can toward town. Along the way, she thinks she may pass Sebastian out by the mountain lake, and possibly Maru as she sits by the community center, but she doesn’t so much as slow down to check in her desperate haste.

“DOCTOR HARVEY!” Abigail fumbles open the door and immediately screams out for the only local doctor, her own entire body shaking awfully with fatigue and soul-clenching panic. “DOCTOR HARVEY!!!”

Harvey bursts through the doors of the clinic moments later, his hair so messed up that it would be comical if not for the dire situation at a hand and a spooked look at his face. “Ab-”

“SAVE HER!” Sobs fully take over Abigail’s entire being as she pleads with Doctor Harvey, her knees nearly buckling beneath her as she struggles to continue holding both herself and Tess up. “Pl-please, we…we were…m-mines, she…she’s hurt and she’s u-u-un-unconscious, pl-please, _please_ -!”

Harvey suddenly embraces her tightly, murmuring reassurances in her ear as he guides her with a calm kind of urgency to sitting in one of the waiting room chairs. Directly after, he takes Tess from her arms, assuring her that he’s going to take care of it her right away, and urging her to ‘sit tight’ while he called Maru to tend to _her_ wounds and obvious exhaustion. Abigail sits obediently while the doctor hurries away with Tess in tow, her entire body aching terribly and her very soul feeling heavier than it ever had before. She feels entirely like she is outside of her own body now, as though she is watching her life as a mere spectator, even when Maru bursts into the waiting room with wide eyes and a load of questions.

“Abbi, what is going on-?!”

“Why were you carrying Tessa-?!”

“Did something happen-?!”

“Oh my _Yoba_ , you’re hurt, you need treatment-”

Abigail doesn’t respond at all as Maru fusses over her, bandaging the wounds she has and cleaning up all of the areas on her visible skin that got dirtied. Even in her heavily disassociated state, she does hear the young nurse talking specifically about ‘infectious slime’, and how large sums of it can cause the immune system to essentially get overwhelmed and lead to a lot of serious medical scares, which the goth realizes silently is more than likely what happened to her poor Tessie. When Abigail finally feels herself enough again to truly focus her vision and open her mouth to run the tip of her tongue over her extremely parched lips, Maru sighs in obvious relief before embracing her so tightly that Abigail can’t help but squeak softly.

“Oh, Yoba, I’m so sorry!” Maru explains, backing up with an apologetic half-laugh. “I’m just…I’m really glad you’re okay, Abbi. You were hurt enough with your few wounds, I…”

The younger woman doesn’t need to finish that sentence for Abigail to know that Tess’s case is truly severe if she, in all of her relatively minor-seeming injuries, was worth being fussed over; thankfully, Maru seems to know this too, and refrains from completing her sentence. Though the mood of the room is already thoroughly awkward enough, it is at that point that Sebastian walks in slowly, peering around the door as though looking for permission to enter despite their technically still being in the waiting room. Even with the weird tension that seems to permanently reside between he and his sister- their kind of conflict in particular being the type to choke out anything else in the area so that it’s all that can be noticed- Abigail is immensely relieved to see her other best friend, and she is quick to reach out her arms for him.

It's hardly a secret that whereas Abigail is generally a touchy-feel kind of person, Sebastian absolutely is _not_ , but he still goes to her side nevertheless and allows her to bury her face in one of his shoulders without complaint or any general sense of discomfort. Her tears come in hot and at once, seeping into the fabric of his hoodie as they begin to wrack through her body along with the pulsing agony in her heart. Even with how absolutely devastated she is, it still takes her off-guard enough to squeak and pause her sobbing for just a few moments when Sebastian abruptly pulls both of his arms around her properly and pulls her to him even more closely, but she is also just as quick to resume in while clutching him like the lifeline that is.

…

Waking up to a silent home is nothing unusual, but the absolute stillness of everything sends fear spidering through Abigail’s heart. Ever since she moved into the old farmhouse with her just over two seasons ago, Tess has always been out of the house a lot, but she’s also in-and-out several times a day, particularly during the mornings as she tends to the farm chores.

 _I’ll just have to do it myself_ , she thinks to herself as she slowly sits up, her hair falling around her face in tangles and her body throbs already in protest, given all that she did yesterday. _I’ll figure it out for you, Tessie._

She gives herself time to at least take a hot shower and brew a pot of coffee before she pulls on the best farming-type clothes she can find and heads outside. She quickly realizes that it’s a lot more obvious with some crops than others if they’re ripe enough to harvest, and she does her best to get the right ones while leaving the ones she’s not sure about, but she’s feeling pretty dejected in general by the time she brings the seemingly meager portion she was mostly certain of to the shipping bin. Thankfully, Tess has several sprinkler systems out, so Abigail only has to work the watering can on the smaller fields that are pretty quick to take care of, and then she decides it’s time to tackle the coops and barns.

Several pecked fingers and very unpleasant experiences trying to milk the cows and goats letter, Abigail decides that she absolutely needs help.

Thankfully, Marnie is in her shop when she goes to talk to her, and she sends Shane- the guy who competes with her for the top spot at Journey of the Prairie King at the saloon and used to be constantly drunk before he began recovering- to give her some pointers and ‘teach her some’. He’s a pretty quiet guy, especially compared to her, but he’s direct and actually pretty patient when showing her how to properly get the milk from each animal, as well as assuring her that all of them love and need their daily pets. The chickens all _much_ prefer him to her, especially the ones who are blue-feathered, and she decides to just hold the bag that Tess uses to transport their eggs back across to the bin. Since she doesn’t have any extra money to pay him (and she’s not sure if she should, anyway), she’s happy to let him sit and give attention to the hens as long as he likes, and she goes ahead and calls up Leah- the local artist who knows a lot about living off the land and plants in general- to help with the harvesting.

By the time she’s thanked both of her helpers about a million times and given them some of the fruits of the day’s labor- eggs and cheese for Shane, goat cheese and some forgeable crops for Leah- it’s getting late into the afternoon, and Harvey’s clinic will technically be closed. Abigail doesn’t hesitate in informing him that she’s coming to check in with her best friend, of course, and before long she’s sat by the still-unconscious woman’s side and listening to the town’s doctor give more of a prognosis.

“She was badly infected by a rather significant amount of poisonous slime, and it was nearly all of her also rather prominent amount of injuries and wounds,” Harvey says, his brow creased and the dark semicircles beneath his eyes more pronounced than usual. “I am extremely glad you brought in when you did. Had you not, and simply gone back to the farm…”

“Is she going to be okay now, though?” Abigail’s voice hitches when she talks, and she presses her face into the smooth underside of one of Tess’s arms to hide the tears that her voice betrays. “Please, I…I can’t…”

Harvey’s comforting hand is on her shoulder almost immediately, and she has to resist the urge to fall apart on him like she has already done recently with someone she’s far, far closer to. “I’m sorry, Abigail, I did not mean to frighten you or rekindle those fears. I…I just want you to know that you absolutely did the right thing by bringing her in as urgently as you did. Tessa will make a full recovery from this, but it is critically important that she not be allowed to battle to the point she did with no rest and no medical and health-restoring resources. I will absolutely be having a talk with her about this behavior, and we will mutually see to it that she is safer in the future, but I am only a doctor. You are clearly very, very close with her, and I have to ask as both a physician and as a friend that you keep an eye on her, and really impress upon her how unnecessarily dangerous and reckless this was.”

“Oh, yeah, absolutely,” Abigail assures him, looking up with a weak smile while giving Tess’s mostly-limp hand a squeeze. “She will _not_ be hearing the end of this self-destructive shit from me. I’ll do my best to make sure she’s safe.”

“I do not doubt it for a moment,” Harvey replies with a knowing smile. “You are welcome to stay here as long as you like, but it will more than likely take another day or so for all of the toxins to fully be dispersed and for her to wake up.”

“Okay…Thank you, Doctor.”

“Anytime at all.”

As with the night previous, Abigail sits up with her dear friend for several hours, talking about the day’s events, rambling about this and that, and generally trying to fill the generally awful silence (aside from the beeping of machines) with something more pleasant. She even falls asleep there, and when she wakes again with a start, it is just past midnight, and there is a hospital blanket tucked around her that makes her smile as much as she can right now. The walk back to the farm feels longer than usual due to her absolutely loneliness, and though she goes straight to bed once she gets back to the farmhouse, she feels as though she hardly sleeps at all.

…

**When she comes to, Tess makes three realizations in quick succession, all with increasing levels of surprise.**

**One, she is alive. She had some close calls in the past, but this one really seemed like the one that was going to do her in.** She could not count on both hands the amount of times she’d lost consciousness, woken up by the grace of good citizens that somehow found her or, even worse, completely alone with several items looted from her person. Those walks- okay, more like crawls- out of the mines were always her most shameful, and several incidents of trying to make it home lead to further unconsciousness. Oh Yoba, Harvey was _not_ going to be happy with her.

 **Two, Abigail was here. By the haggard look on her face, Tess had been under for a little longer than she imagined.** As a matter of fact, her closest friend looked positively miserable, and by the redness of her eyes and frenzied state of her hair, she’d either been crying or been up for way too long.

 **Three, hugs. Oh _wow_ , that's a strong hug, Yoba's tits! Had Abbi taken her workout recommendations that seriously? **As a matter of fact, the hug is doing very little to aide in the amount of pain pulsing through her every ache and pain, but she can’t see actually minds.

“Oh my _Yoba_ , Tessie!” Abigail exclaims, pulling back from their embrace just a bit. “You could have _died_! I could have _lost you_ , you scared me so much- You scared _everyone_ so much-!”

Though Tess really is trying to listen intently to the scolding she knows she’s definitely earned for being so careless, she can’t but to be starstruck by just how _close_ their faces are. Abigail’s eyes are blazing with passion, and Tess can see every little perfect imperfection on her face at this angle, and her breath is minty with hints of peppers, and Yoba, her heart monitor is going wild over to the side…

“…What?” Abigail asks, abruptly stopping her ranting to look on with pure concern. “Are you okay? Shit, I shouldn’t stress you out, you just woke up-”

Tess cannot seem to speak, but she does manage to lift up one hand and brush her fingertips along her darling’s lips. Abigail’s face lights up with a beautiful pink color that looks incredibly beautiful, and a few moments later, Tess finds her courage to gently press their lips together. The kiss is gentle and sweet, but it quickly turns passionate, and when they break apart to the gentle sound of Harvey clearing his throat, they’re both breathless and giddy and so very, very in love as more than friends.

“I’m sorry…baby,” Tess finally whispers, her voice hoarse but tone full of sincerity. “I promise I’ll do better…Please forgive me?”

“Oh, Tessie…” Abigail says softly before enveloping her into a slightly-less-bone-crushing hug. “Of course.”


	6. Nothing to Fix, Everything to Build [Part One of Two]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love comes in vastly different forms and in different connotations for everyone, but it is absolutely love all the same. This is the first half of a two-shot, which was all written as both a dedication to last week's Aromantic Awareness Week and to my very dear aromantic friends!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aromantic Awareness Week was last week. I started on this on the Monday of last week upon finding out about it, and I absolutely tried to finish it within the actual week, but this two-shot has been extremely difficult for me to write for whatever reason. I adore it all the same and I look forward to updating it with the other six eligibles ASAP, but please know that I did my absolute best, that I adore you all so very much, and love is love is love is love is love is love! ♥

**Maru**

“Hey, I’m home!” The voice of the farmer drifts through the otherwise silent space of the rest of the first floor, prompting Maru to pause her wiring and get to her feet in order to greet them properly.

“Welcome back!” She calls back, cheerful despite having technically been interrupted. “Did you have a nice time?”

“Yep! I definitely really like the convenience and all the options that the city brings, but I’m also still really glad I don’t live there anymore,” they reply with a small smile, and Maru finds them already hard at work putting things in their proper places around the house. “What about you? How are your projects coming along?”

“Pretty well! I still have a few kinks to work out, but I think that my modification to that base popcorn maker is nearly ready for another full trial run!” Maru cannot help but to smile with pride, and she doesn’t miss how her enthusiasm is mirrored in her best friend as they grin and offer her a congratulatory fist bump.

“You never fail to impress, Ru. Oh! I got those batteries you asked for!” The farmer’s eyes trail over several bags before they grab one that’s got another smaller parcel inside, which they hand to her. “I went ahead and got a whole package for ya, just in case.”

“I could kiss you right now! This is fantastic!” Maru exclaims, and she throws out her arms in a silent inquisition for their consent for a bear-hug, which she continues with upon receiving as much. “Thank you so much, this is going to make several things much more advanced, not to mention easier!”

“Hey, our lightning rods are great and all, but nothing beats saving time and being able to save up what we’ve already got,” they say with a small laugh as they’re swung around and pleasantly smooshed in her embrace. “I was thinkin’ cheese cauliflower for dinner, what d’ya say?”

“My Yoba, you’re spoiling me tonight!” Maru says with a warm laugh. “Don’t worry, I’ll take of it. You just worry about getting everything put away and relaxing! You must be exhausted after walking around so much and those long rides to and from Zuzu.”

“Well, now _you’re_ spoiling _me_ ,” they reply while bumping their shoulder against her own before they give her a softer and more genuine smile. “But seriously, thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure,” she assures, and she absolutely means it.

With everyone else in town that is/was around her age, Maru has felt there has always been some kind of expectation for more than what she has ever been prepared to offer. The person it was always the most obvious from was Harvey (at least once she got over her original obliviousness), and she wished it hadn’t been the undoing of whatever deeper connection they’d been slowly building up between themselves, but it was not as though it was only with him that she seemed to always disappoint in the areas of romance and romantic love. Even with her other best friend in the world, Penny, Maru had always felt obligated to take things further than what was traditional in the realm of platonic affection. Penny has always been someone who dreamed of being swept off of her feet and finding better for herself that what she was given in life, and as much as she was willing to drop anything she was doing to help her ginger-haired companion out, Maru has never found that she wanted to do things like date, get married, or have children, at least not in the traditional ways.

For the longest time, she felt like she must be broken or defective. After all, her mother and father were both fiercely independent and self-sufficient in the same ways that she was, but they were also clearly devoted to each other in more ways than platonic best friends would be. Sebastian has always been extremely introverted and slow to warm up to those he didn’t already know, but even he had levels of intimacy that he reserved for his romantic interests, and ever since he got married to Abigail, he’d even become more prone to showing and/or alluding to as much in public. Penny certainly never seemed to completely understand when she tried to explain how she didn’t have the same feelings _everyone else_ seemed to have, and Harvey had been far too crushed by her rejection to even try to, but then along came Pelican Town’s first farmer in a couple of decades.

With them, Maru never felt like more was expected of her than she was comfortable with. The two of them just clicked, and even though it was very similar to the way that she and Penny were undeniably compatible, it was somehow even more natural and free from any guilt or self-imposed expectations. It had even been the farmer who suggested that they move in together in the farmhouse, to combine their similar interests, hobbies, and passions to a base that they could both spend a lot of time in. Truly, her relationship with them was a dream that had come to fruition, and even though it wasn’t the ‘traditional’ kind of relationship between housemates who shared everything and weren’t related, they were both incredibly happy and fulfilled.

“So we’ve got a few options for movies!” They call from the living room as she’s finishing up her wiring while keeping an eye on the nearly-complete cooking time of dinner. “Do you think we can have some fancy homemade popcorn tonight?”

“We certainly can,” she says with a grin, snapping shut the casing to the battery cradles and beginning to rummage for the kernels.

No, the relationship she had with her farmer was hardly traditional, but they both simply could not be happier with it.

* * *

**Shane**

“…Oh, Yoba’s panties.”

“Excuse you, I’ve never looked better.”

The farmer doesn’t even try to hide their grin as they lean against the gardening hoe that they’ve evidently been using to till a new area of soil. “You look like the rejected mascot to Mickey’s Chicken.”

“…You did _not_ just compare me to that corporate shit factory.”

“Technically, I think I called you their patchy younger brother,” they reply with a shit-eating grin that never fails to make him feel like he’s always coming back to where he belongs.

“Gee, thanks,” Shane says with a sarcastic snort. “I’ll have you know that I was having to rescue the hens after Marnie accidently left their hatch open while she was finishing up their new fencing.”

“Did the hens win the fight?”

“Ha ha, very funny,” he says dryly, but the venom there is false and they both know it well. “You want to help me out or are you just going to insult me?”

“Both,” the farmer suggests while setting aside their current tool and jogging over to where the nearest watering hose is coiled up. “You’re not going to track all of the mud and shit and feathers into our house again, are you?”

“Yeah, that’s totally why I want you to hose me off.” Shane accents his point by grabbing a handful of feathers and blowing them in his best friend’s direction, which makes them laugh and half-dance away from them.

Despite all the teasing, the farmer makes sure that the water stream isn’t ice-cold before pointing it at him, and Shane makes sure to rotate and adjust so that every inch of him has a chance to be made less grubby before he goes to shower. Once that’s done, he makes sure with his housemate that Jas isn’t home yet before he strips down to his underwear and tank top and leaves the rest of his clothes to dry out in the sun. Around anybody else, Shane is completely sure that he’d be reluctant to so much as take off a jacket or wear tighter-fitting clothing, but for more than one reason, the farmer is a helluva lot different. Truth be told, the two of them have seen each other as naked as the day they were born, and it’s never been awkward, full of any inappropriate teasing, or judgement. With each other, they’re just themselves, and there are no weird sexual undertones or uncomfortable needs that neither of them want to try and fill. They just _are_ , and even with all of his mental illnesses and old hang-ups, Shane is happier than he could have ever imagined he’d be.

By the time he’s done in the shower and changed into some fresh comfortable clothes, Jas has made it back from school and is hard at work at something on her laptop. He welcomes her back and tosses her one of her vitamin water-juice-mixture-things, then goes into the kitchen to find a snack and maybe figure out what to suggest for dinner.

“Pom-Pom said you looked like Aunt Marnie’s chickens beat you up when you got home,” Jas comments with a mischievous glint in her eyes when he finally makes it back to the living room with some pizza rolls and sauce on a plate. “I hope you at least got a few good pecks in.”

“Bunch of damn comedians!” Shane complains and tosses a roll at her, which she nearly catches in her mouth (and Yoba, he’s glad she’s finally old enough for him to curse around without feeling like a caveman.)

The three of them end up ordering out from the saloon for dinner, which is definitely not something any of them mind, and then Jas tells them both about some boy that she likes and some popular-bitch drama that makes Shane feel _incredibly_ old. All in all, it’s a lowkey night in that has the same contentedness that he’s finally relaxing into enough to not worry it’s all just some insanely-long dream that he’s going to wake up from. That being said, Shane’s pretty surprised when the farmer requests for him to ‘crush them like a cat does when it wants to show someone they love them’, because apparently they’ve been feeling touch-starved.

“Are you saying I’m a cat now?” He grumbles with a teasing raise of his eyebrows while climbing onto the farmer’s bed, which is way cushier and fancier than Shane’s ever wanted to sleep on all the time.

“It’s got to be an upgrade for a patchy chicken brother,” the farmer mumbles, and even though they’re keeping up their usual loving banter, Shane goes ahead and quiets down to platonically smoosh them by way of laying on them for their requested cuddles.

After a while, he finally adds, “Well, at least a little bit of an improvement,” and the farmer laughs, and they both enjoy each other’s body heat and unconditional affection for each other until they’re both ready to have some alone time and crash for the night. Honestly, Shane’s really glad they both give each other everything they need in their intimate, platonic relationship, and that they’ve got a great adoptive kid and that they’re doing well and love each other, but he doesn’t have to say as much out loud, at least not right now. After all, it would mean some more teasing that really meant the farmer truthfully felt the same.

* * *

**Harvey**

Harvey is extremely grateful that he doesn’t have to come out to an empty car after this particular therapy appointment. It wasn’t ‘bad’, per say, but it _was_ extremely taxing both mentally and emotionally as both he and his therapist made some significant breakthroughs with processing his mountain-sized medical trauma and survivor’s guilt. The farmer (as they promised they would be) is either done with or are taking a break from their errands, and are relaxing with a snack in their hands and their feet propped on the dashboard, when Harvey joins them.

“Hey, how did it go?” They ask an honest kind of concern and enthusiasm that makes him feel more at ease in itself.

“It…was very productive,” he admits while trying to coax his shoulders and spine to relax into the passenger seat. “Unfortunately…Well, I’m feeling very spent as a result, I’m afraid.”

There is a small pause immediately after him saying it, which prompts him to quickly add, “B-but! I certainly have no problem with accompanying you on any errands you have left, o-or…anything like that.

“Nah, nah, I get where you’re coming from,” the farmer replies, and the kindness and patience in their tone doesn’t fail to put some of Harvey’s budding anxieties back to rest. “Try not to worry, alright?”

“W-well, I can make no promises in that regard,” Harvey jokes lightly, which earns him a light grin, then an affectionate tousle of his own hair that causes him to blush brightly. “But I will try.”

“That’s all I’m askin’!” The farmer reaffirms with a grin before reaching toward the middle portion of the backseats and bringing out a dark canister with a see-through top. “Here, I got ya a snack while I was out and about.”

“A fruit salad!” Harvey exclaims with a wide grin that only contributes to the existing blush on his cheeks. “This is a really great gift; thank you very much!”

“Aw, I figured you’d like it, Mister Health and Longevity,” they say affectionately.

Harvey is more than accustomed to being given flack for his consciousness of health- both playfully or lovingly and with less-positive intentions- and giving professionalism in response to these statements. With them, however, he barely hesitates before sticking his tongue out, which earns him a bout of laughter that does wonders to dispel the noise and unpleasant energy in his head.

From the parking lot of the therapist’s building, the two of them stop by a couple of more stores, then go and have a causal dine-in dinner. The last activity before they will head back to Pelican Town is to be both doing the regular grocery shopping and stocking up the more specific kinds of products that are not available in their small town. Harvey has to admit, he’s been looking forward to this part of the trip quite a bit, perhaps a little too much so to not be a little embarrassed about it. It was never as though he would ever say so to Pierre’s face, but no matter how fresh the items were that he sold, they would never be like the stock that whole food sections constantly had year-round produce. (Quite frankly, the only fresh produce Pierre got was from the farm, no matter how much he tried to act as though that is not the case, and even the farm could not give such a massive amount of stock all year-round yet.)

All of these thoughts aside, Harvey is excited to be in such an expansive store. He feels like he could easily get lost in the isles and sections, but the hanging signs aren’t too hard to read like the smaller labels occasionally are, so he feels confident after the first few minutes of adjusting to the new environment. Even though he doesn’t physically get disorientated, he _is_ fully invested in making sure they two get everything on their sizable list as well as making sure everything is optimally priced and fresh. Because of this, he’s positively taken aback when he sees how the poor farmer is clearly half-asleep against the handlebar.

“Hey,” he prompts gently, which makes them grumble something unintelligible and rub their eyes against where they’ve leaned heavily on their forearm. “Here, let me help you. I don’t want to hear a _word_ of you driving home, either.”

The farmer grumbles more sleepy protests, but once he wraps an arm around them and does his best to finish up more quickly with the last few things they’ve either come from or he deems they could need, they settle into another silence. Harvey is subsequently very grateful that this store has a worker that takes out the cart to the car for each customer/customer group and then loads the goods into the car, as he has to essentially carry his dear companion back to the vehicle and buckle them as though they were a child.

As he makes sure they’re secured in and leaned back in the passenger seat before he goes for one of the spare blankets and spare pillows he keeps in the car in case of emergencies, he cannot help but to think internally that this kind of moment must be what most people would consider where they could begin falling into romantic love. For Harvey, though, he feels a massive swell of affection an entirely different way, though it is nevertheless extremely strong and pure. In his and surrounding professions, he has heard words like ‘asexuality’ and ‘aromantic’ used, and he supposes that the latter is what he identifies with the most.

In such a tender moment between himself and someone that he adores so much regardless of the lack of romance, though, he finds he’s not inclined to call it anything other than what it is: love.

* * *

**Emily**

“Hey, are you feeling alright?” Emily leans against the bathroom door as she asks this, her hands remaining occupied with refilling one of her dye pots while she is genuinely concerned. “You came in really quickly and went straight to a bath or shower…You know it’s no big deal if you get the floors dirty, right? We can just clean them up!”

“Yeah, I know, I’m okay,” the farmer’s voice replies, but it’s undeniably a fair amount weaker in tone and volume than usual. “Just…Well, a lot of the fencing got really messed up after the last couple of storms, and I couldn’t seem to stop getting into mishaps while I was fixing them. I’ll be fine after a long soak, some good food, probably a couple of over-the-counter painkillers, and definitely a night of sleep.”

“You poor dear!” Emily exclaims at once. “Do you have any splinters? I have a couple of methods to get those out pain-free!”

“That would be nice,” the farmer concedes. “Thanks, Emmy.”

“Anytime, it’s my privilege!” She says before going to finish her current project and get prepared to take care of her poor housemate.

When her poor best friend eventually emerges, her heart goes out for them all the more. They’re dressed in some very loose-fitting pajamas that hang around their frame, giving them a tent-like shape that’s designed for strictly comfort, and their hair is still extremely wet as it sticks all to itself in masses of hair. Their cheeks and arms are dusted with sunburn and their eyes are miserable and exhausted, and Emily wastes no time going to them and coaxing them to their biggest, most-comfortable couch they’ve got in the living room.

“This won’t hurt at all,” Emily soothes as she begins to gently swab the areas where the offending tiny pieces of wood are. “Here, why don’t we turn on the jukebox or the TV? You just need to relax and unwind, my poor dear.”

“Alright; don’t have to tell me twice,” they murmur, reaching for the remote with their less-roughed-up hand and turning on a cooking show they both enjoy quite a bit.

Emily works mostly silently, as that clearly seems to be the current preference of her darling companion. She soaks the injured hand in an Epsom salt solution for around ten minutes, then gently uses a pair of tweezers to remove each splinter from where they have risen to the surface of their skin. From there, she checks on the foot bath she has had on a low self-heating setting, then coaxes each of her farmer’s feet inside it with all of the soap petals, nourishing essential oils, and pleasant smells. While their feet are being pre-taken care of, she uses another set of lotions and oils to rub into each of the farmer’s arms, including some aloe vera serum that makes them moan softly in contentment. By the time she is done with this, she settles down on the ground to remove some excess dead skin and rehydrate their feet, which is when they begin to half-heartedly protest.

“Emmy, you don’t have to do all of this for me,” they say with a small grunt. “This is really, really sweet of you, but I’m really alright…Why don’t you sit down and relax? I’m sure you’ve had a long day, too.”

“I am in a positive and optiomal state in order to give you some of the pampering you tend to deny yourselves,” Emily replies patiently. “Now, if this is not what you want, I will absolutely stop. Please do not let your worrying influence that decision on your end, though. I really am perfectly alright and happy to do this for you, sweetheart.”

They hesitate for another moment or two, but then the two of them make eye contact, and the farmer settles back into their seat while releasing some extra bodily tension. “I believe and trust you.”

Emily beams in response and continues with her work, which makes her platonic partner giggle adorably with some ticklishness, then groan and grunt happily in response to the following massage. The clothing expert decides to continue this deep-tissue treatment (mixed with more medicinal and healing oils and lotion solutions, of course) up their legs, then to their hips, back, shoulders, and neck. By the time she is finishing up, the farmer is essentially molding clay beneath her as she sits at their side and tends to as many knotted up places tensions as absolutely possible. Her own hands are aching prominently by the time she’s finished on them, but she does not truly mind at all as they sigh contentedly and look to her with a very grateful and sleepy smile.

“You’re the literal best, you know that?” They murmur, and she is filled again with warmth and light that makes her beam.

“I am happy to take care of you, especially when you can’t take care of yourself. Yoba knows you do the same for me,” Emily says, brushing her hands lightly down their still-bared back before gently readjusting their pajamas. “Why don’t we head to bed, cutie?”

“Sounds great to me, but what about food?” The farmer brings up lightly, which makes Emily blush a pretty pink in return; how could she forget about dinner? “Ah, ah, you keep your butt in this seat. I definitely feel good enough to take care of making that and bringing it out. As a matter of fact, I’ll go rinse this foot-bath thing out, and we’ll get you set up to do your own treatment.”

“Well, how can I argue with my partner?” Emily replies simply, giving them a grateful smile of her own as she scoots back into the sofa.

The use of the word ‘partner’ is certainly nothing new between the pair, and it nevertheless makes both of them feel giddy and joyful every time it’s said aloud. After all, Emily knew well that previously to meeting each other, both of them had doubts as whether they would ever find another soul to be as absolutely compatible with themselves. For herself, she knew after some time that she had the occasional admirer, such as Clint, or the occasional crush-haver, such as her most-beloved Sandy, but even for those like Sandy that she felt a deeper, more intently personal regard towards, she simply had never felt what was described and regarded as romantic attraction. This absolutely did not mean she was without love- quite the contrary- but it tended to be an issue when trying to explain how she could want a life partner without romance being a major factor. Her dear farmer, a fellow person who was aromantic, affectionate, helpful, and open-minded- had changed her whole world while not forcing herself into a life style and kind of relationship that would give her anguish. The two of them had been happily together for nearly two full years now, and as far as they were both concerned, this would be how they spent the rest of their lives, even with the potential of co-parenting children down the line.

For tonight, the two of them enjoy some rich soup that is full of fresh ingredients and has a comfortingly heavy texture, and then Emily does her own self-care routine while she talks about anything and everything with her dear. Soon, the two of them are ready for bed, and they crawl beneath the covers to bond by intimate, non-romantic and non-sexual cuddling, and all is right within their own universe.

* * *

**Elliott**

“I think that I will take…the question from you in the back with the hot pink blouse and curled hair. Yes, yes, please, ask away!”

The individual that he has called upon- a woman, as indicated by her nametag- straightens, brushing aside any stray pieces of her hair and readjusting the straight-back leather folder in her arms before she speaks. “Thank you, Mister Quincy. I would like to inquire about the speculations that have been circulating the book-writing and publishing scene for a minute now. Can you confirm or deny rumors that your debut novel will have any sequels, or perhaps prequels?”

Elliott spares a brief glance to his primary agent, who gives him a brief but knowing look. As they both strongly suspected that this subject would eventually be broached after the reading and initial novel-specific question session, they discussed what would be said by way of response beforehand. The trick, as Elliott has learned, is to tease them with the allure of upcoming information, and to find the balance between intriguing them for more while not angering them at the lack of clarity.

“Well, I cannot confirm the existence of any sequels or prequels,” Elliott says into the microphone, pausing briefly for dramatic effect. “ _But_ I will not deny their existence, either.”

As anticipated, several of the reporters begin writing things down in response while several audience member reach for their phones or whisper excitedly, all notions that fill him jubilance immediately. He proceeds to answer another couple of questions before he calls on the person who he’d remember in hindsight as the one who completely changed the course and mood of the interview. This person was a man who looked to be a bit older than himself who had a completely bald head and dark eyes, and he wore a set of spectacles with thick glass.

This man stands up with a small smirk on his face, like he knows something that the rest of them don’t, and this immediately makes Elliott feel a tug of apprehension even _before_ he speaks. “Mister Quincy, I have a bit of a personal question to ask you.”

Elliott exchanges another brief glance with his agents before replying, “Ah…Alright, sir, but do keep it family friendly.”

This makes the audience laugh a little, and that is almost, _almost_ enough to make up for what comes out of the man’s mouth next. “Oh, no, nothing like _that_ , sir. I just want to know why you’d ever want to marry more than one person. Most of us can’t even handle the one!”

There is more laughter, but this time it’s from far fewer people, and it’s overall far weaker. Mostly, there is just the pervasive feeling of awkwardness that Elliott feels he can practically grasp, but this is not the first nor the last time as much has been inquired to him.

“Well,” he says, doing his absolute best in keeping his voice even and polite. “The simple fact of the matter is that I love both of my partners immensely and equally. I would do anything at all for them, and they make me a much better man every single day. I cannot imagine a day where I do not wake up to their sweet embraces and love-laced words, and I know they feel the same for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, but don’t you ever worry that they’ll just run off and leave you high and dry?” The man persists, and the awkwardness is quickly beginning to sour into agitation, especially on the author’s part. “Not to mention how much work it must be to try and keep up with them and whoever else you guys are dating or whatever. I can’t imagine it’d be worth it!”

“My spouses are my entire world. We do not personally date outside of our polyamorous trio, meaning that if we ever decide to add another into our relationships, it will be with all of us,” Elliott replies, trying to keep the edge off of his words despite how he’s badly tensed up. “And quite frankly, anything more intimate and personal than that is _none_ of your business. Next question.”

“But-”

“Security!” One of the agents calls, which is mostly to alert the man that he has overstayed his welcome, as a guard is already making his way through the rapidly parting crowd.

“Hey, c’mon, Quincy, I’m just _asking_ -!” The man exclaims as he is seized firmly but not overly-roughly.

“And I answered,” Elliott finally says with full venom behind each word. “Next. Question.”

The rest of the conference goes well- very well, even- but Elliott simply cannot shake the feelings of absolute agitation that linger in the back of his mind and keep his hair standing up-on-end. Once the crowd has dissipated and given him the clearance to pack up, his agents offer sincere and very concerned apologies and questions of their own, which he replies to with reassurance and politely waving them off. He has just over an hour before his signing session, meaning he will be able to escape to the hotel room and reunite with his partners for a while, and he wastes absolutely no time doing.

In said hotel room, his darling farmer is sitting on the king-sized bed as he enters, and they stand up properly to give him a sweet kiss in greeting. “Welcome back, cutie.”

“Thank you, my beloved,” he murmurs affectionately as he runs his fingers lightly through their hair. “Is that the shower I hear?”

“Yeah, Chelle’s in there right now. Her shoulders were all tensed up and she needed to get off her feet and under some hot water,” they reply, referring to both their wife’s chronic pain and her travel-sized shower chair. “She said something about some jackass at your panel. Do you want to talk about it?”

“…I don’t know,” he confesses with a sigh, prompting his non-binary spouse to gently begin playing with his hair and to guide him to lay down on the bed with them.

“Well, I’ll braid this, and we can just watch some TV or listen to some music until you decide?” They offer, drawing a content sigh out of him as well as a nod.

That is just what the two of them do, his love and himself. Elliott loves being a semi-public-figure, he truly does, and it suits him better than he could have ever conceived, but these are the moments he craves the most deeply within his soul. When he is with either or both of his loves, the rest of the world fades into the background and secondary background, leaving himself and his dearest companions at the forefront and focus. Around them, he does not have to put up any facade or speak precisely. He can simply be, and the ability to exist so contentedly with two other people who he would gladly do practically anything for is something he could have never conceived in his broken, pained background. The serenity goes beyond the physical and into the nurturing of his soul; how could a loud-mouthed bigot ever understand these complexities?

“Well, hello there, sexy,” Chelle’s voice floats out from the direction of the bathroom, and Elliott looks over to where the steam is flooding out from the bathroom with a smile.

“Hello, my gorgeous rose,” he says sweetly as she joins the two of them on the bed, her hair still pulled up into a towel hat and her skin rosy beneath her fresh clothing.

The two of them kiss, then kiss again, and before all three of them cuddling and giggling as Chelle and Elliott catch their breaths once more. Once more, Elliott can only appreciate and internally stick it to the nosy heathen who disrupted his panel that such a person could never adore and admire the perfection that exists between their mutual love. His wife teaches him of perseverance and of deeply romantic and sensual intimacy, his spouse teaches him of sturdiness and wit, both of them teach each other and him of communication and intellectual growth. Together they are a whole, a complete miracle that adore each other, and nothing- not the fact they identify respectively in different sexualities and genders (their aqua-haired wife being bi, himself being pan, and their farmer being aromantic and demisexual), and certainly not overly-curious non-fans- could possibly change or deny as much.

“Your reading starts in about fifteen minutes,” their farmer muses as they lay, tangled up in the best possible ways both physically and emotionally. “Should we get up?”

“…Five more minutes?” Chelle offers.

Elliott is all-too ready to make this much official, too. “Five more minutes.”

* * *

**Haley**

The sound of music greets Haley as she steps outside of the farmhouse, and though it is so usual for her home to be full of notes and song, it still makes her smile nearly every time to hear her partner play. She pauses on the front porch to take in the tune, which is soft and sweet, and very gently presses the bag of marshmallows that she went inside to retrieve to her stomach as she closes her eyes and listens. Once her partner hisses out a curse and the melody abruptly stops, she makes it the rest of the way to where they are sitting at the steadily-burning fireside.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” The voice of their mutual new boyfriend, Jude, is just as sweet and gentle as the strumming was before.

“Nah, ‘m fine, just a mosquito,” the farmer replies with a small smile, apologetically putting a hand on one of Jude’s knees in a reassuring fashion.

Haley freezes in place, a light blush tinting her cheeks as she realizes that their candles that specifically repel bugs was the _other_ thing she’d gone in for. “Shoot.”

“You forget, Honey?” The farmer replies with an affectionate smirk and eyebrow raise, a combination of an expression that earns them the bag of marshmallows harmlessly tossed at their chest.

“You shush your mouth!” She squeaks with no venom. “I’ll be right back!”

Before long, the three of them are all sitting around the fire and much better for the wear with the candles also giving them an invisible bubble of protection. Things are about to improve even further, as a matter of fact, as they are now loading their roasting sticks with homemade vegetarian hot dogs that Jude specifically made for this date. Haley is proud to say that she only drops one of hers into a rather fiery demise _once,_ though she doesn’t hesitate with her farmer offers to assemble the rest of her main course for her.

“You know, my father always said that a cook-out was never complete without scary stories,” Jude offers as the three of them begin in on their not-meat cylinders and chips.

“ _You_ like scary stories?” The farmer repeats with a teasing grin to their boyfriend. “I never woulda’ taken ya for the type.”

“I-I can handle intimidating tales j-just as well as anyone else!” Jude immediately squeaks in a positively _adorable_ fashion. “I’m sure Haley believes me, d-don’t you, deary?”

“I believe you,” Haley confirms, even if it’s just a tiny white lie. “Well, then whose going first?”

Being the one who suggested, Jude volunteers to go first, and Haley has to admit that the story about a man with a spatula for an arm is actually pretty interesting (especially how he tells it) until the farmer points out in the form of a question that ‘isn’t that just a kind-of-spooky-but-not-really plot of a children’s TV show?’, which kind of ruins that vibe, she must say. Jude defends his choice by saying that the episode petrified him as a child, and though Haley wants to agree, she has to side with their mutual partner that said episode was not intimidating in the least to her back in the day. Jude isn’t truly upset, but he still pouts (adorably) throughout the duration of the farmer’s story until the said partner adds some spooky strumming to ‘enrich the ambience’, and then they end up exclaiming ‘BOO!’ so grandiosely and unexpectedly toward the end of the story that both Haley and Jude both end up nearly falling off of/completely falling off of their long-bench seating.

“Whoa, are y’all okay??” Their darling asks at once through a fit of laughter, but they _are_ genuinely concerned with Jude groans out a complaint and sulks more sincerely until the farmer gathers him into their lap for some much-needed cuddle-time, so Haley does not pretend to be cross for long at all.

It ends up being _her_ story, though, that takes the metaphorical cake of the evening. Honestly, Haley is pretty unaffected by it herself and simply thought it would be a good low-anxiety-inducing one, but by the time she confirms at the end that the chaos she described is a real story that genuinely happened elsewhere in the Ferngill Republic, she doesn’t miss how both her partners shiver and exchange nervous looks. At the very least, it seems to help when she assures them that it wasn’t (that) close to where they live in the peaceful valley, and then things are even more dramatically improved by their collectively eating enough S’mores to put even their childhood selves to shame.

“Man, that walk back in the dark isn’t going to be fun,” Jude muses as he rubs his stomach and looks into the lowering flames of their campfire. “But I really have had a phenomenal time with you both tonight. We _have_ to do this again, and soon.”

Haley and the farmer immediately agree, and then at the same time offer for their boyfriend to stay the night, which he agrees to with a cute little blush. Once they have all headed inside and to do their respective nighttime routines, Haley has to admit that she is tempted to go spend some with Jude alone, but she absolutely will not do so without getting the expressed permission of her life-partner. She waits for them to return from their shower to inquire about it, and while they assure her that they don’t mind if she does, she doesn’t miss a glint of seeming concern in their eyes.

“What’s on your mind, dear?” She prompts gently, and she worries briefly that they may regress into their old habit of trying to push their worries down, but they don’t, and that sends a wave of relief over her despite their next words.

“I just…I know that we love each other, and I know that we’re going to be together until the end times and beyond,” they say before frowning visibly. “But…I guess I just need reassurance that you don’t think of me because I’m not in love with you in the ‘normal’ way. That it’s okay that we have a different intimate relationship that you’ll have with our Jude.”

“Oh, my sweet, of course,!” Haley exclaims at once, gathering their face in her hands and gazing deeply in their eyes. “I love you for you, returning this adoration for you in a way that I don’t for anyone else. I love that I have more than one kind of relationship, and I love that we are with each other for the long haul, but I love and respect you enough to not go to his room if that isn’t what you want me to do tonight.”

“I…I don’t mind you doing it in the future,” they assure her, and she believes that absolutely, because if they say it then it is simply the truth. “But…maybe not tonight?”

“Not tonight, then,” she promises, settling in to cuddle with them instead.

And though her initial thoughts for the night did not go to plan, there were thousands and thousands of days ahead to love, learn, and grow, and all of them would come to fruition soon enough, so Haley is happy to wait for both of her partners (as well as any future partners) to be fully ready, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember that REQUESTS ARE VERY MUCH STILL OPEN, to leave kudos/subscribe/follow/leave a comment if it so compels you, and that I will upload the second part of this two-shot before fulfilling the last request currently in the queue! ♥

**Author's Note:**

> REQUESTS ARE OPEN! Please either comment them below (in this chapter or any subsequent ones), or send them to stained-flower-productions on Tumblr! Feel free to be as specific as you like, and I am immensely looking forward to your concepts and for the rest of this collection of stories as a whole! 
> 
> As always, please remember to leave kudos/subscribe/bookmark/leave a comment if it so compels you! ♥


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